We'll Be Wanted
by FightForLife
Summary: An original work (OCs) taking place in the Tinkerbell/Disney Fairies world. - Creon has a talent that no one else has - She's a Gold Worker talent. And she'd love her talent without limit, if it weren't for one thing... the fact that Neverland has no gold mines, and no gold at all. Instead of reveling in her abilities, all she can feel is unwanted - but can someone change that?


Hello all! This introduction'll be quick, I promise.

This is my first work on here in a long time, but I've always loved Tinkerbell and the Disney Fairies series, so I hope I do them justice. This two are OC's from the Disney Fairies universe that I've had tucked away for a while now, so, fingers crossed you'll like them!  
I understand that the fanfiction is labeled under "Disney Fairies", in books, which is slightly different from the "Tinkerbell" movie (different mechanics/world layout), but this world they're in is kind of a crossover between the two. Not a crossover story, just a crossover in universes? Lol. Think of it as having the essential setting of "Tinkerbell" – Pixie Dust Tree – minus the whole "four lands of the seasons" thing (There's a Home Tree where everyone lives like in the Disney Fairies books), with the mechanics of the Disney Fairies books (more talents than just the ones they show in the movie, different mechanics with how talents work, different little parts of "pixie culture" mentioned). To be honest, it's just like the Disney Fairies series, but I kept the Pixie Dust tree, since it's important to the plot. Mother Dove still exists in this universe, too, but she isn't the main source of dust.

If you want to see something entirely true to the books and despise the idea of a Pixie Dust Tree in the same realm as Mother Dove, this may not be the thing for you, but I'd love it if you enjoy the story anyway, eh heh.

I'll stop talking now ^ _ ^

Everyone in Pixie Hollow had a special talent, from apple carving to zebra painting. Everyone. And as everyone was told to believe, their talents made them special, needed, and a vital part of the community. Apple carvers were a very exotic sub-sect of the Carving talent fairies, and people loved admiring their work as sculptures or edible masterpieces, especially around Autumn tide. Zebra painters, though rarely in the presence of actual zebra, never lacked work – they painted the patterns on the zebra beetles of the island, helped Animal talents decorate their rooms like the Home Décor talents never could, and even designed the fabric that the Sewing talent fairies used for their boldest animal-print pieces. In these cases, it was true that every talent, no matter how obscure or odd, was wanted, and needed.

But pixies never needed Creon. She was a tinker fairy, but a very special kind… well, not so much special, as rare. She was a gold worker. She was hopeless with all metals, except for gold. Her hands knew how to work it, her mind knew how to melt it, and from the top her head to the tips of her toes, it ran through her veins as naturally as blood. And she would never have traded her talent for anything, except…. As far as she knew, there were no gold mines in all of Neverland. None. Not a speck of gold could be found anywhere on the entire island, save that in the Lost Things that drifted from the Main Land to their coast, and those Tink snatched up before Creon could get her hands on them, the other tinker always finding some impressive way to fix them or incorporate them into her little inventions. Creon didn't hold it against her or anything; after all, everybody loved Tink's work.

She just wished they could see her work, too – she wanted to be needed.

Her fellow fairies always tried to assure her that she was so, but they'd never come across a Gold talent fairy, and they had no idea what to do with her. Prilla, who had once felt the same way, tried to cheer her up and find something for her to do, but even she couldn't find an answer.

After all, what work can a fairy do where there's no work to be done?

And who would want someone without a purpose?

Creon sat, curled up against the tree, watching pixie dust fall from its branches and into the pool across from her. Her eyes were drifting shut – she was exhausted. But she stayed just enough awake to see the dust's golden glow.

It was the closest thing there was to gold on this island - that's why Creon always slept in the Pixie Dust Tree.

She couldn't stand her room. The second they discovered her talent for gold, the Décor fairies were at a loss for what to do. Since every pixie's room was personalized based on their likes, and their talent, they figured the usual tinker décor would do, as long as they added something golden… but where would they find anything like that? In the end, they figured that anything shiny and metallic would do, and so, her apartment was covered with polished brass and bronze. Yellow-brown trinkets and baubles were everywhere, and each piece of furniture was inlaid or bordered with some kind of glimmering ore. Every inch of her living space shone like the sun. And yes, this was a plus. And it definitely did feel _similar_ to her favored metal. And she really did appreciate their effort. But it felt so… fake. It felt cheap, and crass, and just… mocking. She really would have preferred there be no metal in the room at all, rather than having to be constantly surrounded with imitations. She could never get to sleep in that room, and on her worst days, even walking close to all that bronze would make her stomach turn. But she didn't want to ask for a new room, after all the work she was sure they must have put into it to make it as comfortable as possible for her… so she just stayed by the Tree, and pretended to be a night owl if anyone asked.

As her head began to droop, Creon reached one hand up to massage the tension from her shoulders. Her hands brushed across thick auburn hair, wiry from being around constant heat and fire and sprawled out in a red halo around her head, and, with a heavy sigh, pulled a few strands in front of her eyes. It shielded from the pixie dust's glow – After all, just feeling it near was enough to get her asleep, and sleeping was all she really wanted to do right now. Tomorrow would be another day of wandering. She'd rather get down to it than mope inside her head for another hour. But just as she was about to sleep…

"Hey Creon," A voice rang through the air.

Startled, she jumped, knocking her spine against the bark of the tree. Creon reached back and rubbed her bones with a grimace, then pushed her hair away once more to see who was talking. It was Cherus – a Caring talent fairy. Another sort of "rare" talent, his specialty was taking care of pixies… well, taking care of anything. Like Creon, he had trouble finding use for his true niche, which was caring for the elderly and newborn, since there were very few infants or ancients in the immortal fairy society, but unlike her, his talent was versatile. He could help anyone, even baby animals, weak plants, or the occasional human, so he had a regular place in their world. And lately, a regular place in her life, as well.

She knew he was worried about her - worried about the insecurities she'd long since gotten used to. But she'd be a lot more touched if she didn't know worrying was part of his job.

"Evening, Cherus." She mumbled, letting the hair fall back into her eyes. The boy walked over to the pool and put a little dust into his cup. "Sneaking extra dust, are we?" The girl said with a small half-sneer.

The sparrow man smiled at her, the dimples in his cheeks perking up as he gave her a shrug. "Oh, this isn't for me. I'm helping Marina deal with a tadpole right now, and she ended up dropping the rest of her day's share into the pond. We need to help him out of his jam as soon as we can, so we can't just wait for tomorrow's rations. I'll just put some of my dust back later to make up for this." He explained, attaching the cup to his belt and flipping over its leaf-leather flap to protect the powder inside.

Marina was an Animal talent who specialized in aquatic creatures, but despite being able to talk to animals, she wasn't very good with the little ones. This wasn't the first time Creon had heard about her asking her more compassionate friend for help.

_Just like Cherus. "Taking one for the team"… another part of the job. That kind of talent must get exhausting._

"What kind of 'jam' could a tadpole get in that's so urgent it can't be fixed tomorrow?"

He gave a small chuckle as he got up. As he laughed, stripes of blonde hair bounced against his forehead, bordering his cheerful wide blue eyes.

"Well, it's not that bad, from one of our perspectives – he was born with a torn fin, and he's feeling self-conscious about how he swims. He doesn't want to go home until he can swim like his brothers and sisters. Of course, we know that it's fine for him to swim however he wants, but you can see why it'd be a big deal to the poor little guy." He took one hand to pat against his pouch, where the dust was held. "But luckily, with this extra boost, he'll be swimming stronger than ever. We can deal with his confidence issues later, in broad daylight, but what's important now is that he gets home to his mother."

Creon gave a strained, but polite smile, and closed her eyes. "Well, good luck with it."

She wrapped her arms around her knees once more, curled up for sleep, expecting any second to hear the sound of his wings beating a mile a minute against the wind. But the sound didn't come. Actually, it was eerily quiet. She opened her eyes.

"Yeek!" The girl shrieked – Cherus was crouching right next to her, giving her an instant and full view of his face once she looked up. The tinker fell back, elbows cracking against the floor. "Ow! Dang it." She pushed herself up onto her rear, cradling her elbows with a furrowed brow. Cherus frowned and blushed, embarrassed, and rose into the air. "Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

She turned to the sparrow man with a toothy frown. "Queen Clarion, Cherus! Next time you sneak up on me like that, I'm making you a bell. Don't you have something to do? Tadpoles to enchant, or something?"

His face turned redder, one hand reaching back to scratch his head nervously as he floated above the ground. He gave a shaky grin. "Ahaha! I'm.. I'm really sorry, Creon! I didn't mean it, I swear. I just… Well…"

The pixie sighed and sat back in her spot once more. She turned her eyes to Cherus, locking his blue with her orange-gold. "What?"

"Well… I have a question." He landed back on the ground, planting his hands behind his back as he approached her.

"Aaaand, what would that be?"

"Um. It's only…." His eyes wandered off, breaking eye contact. He scratched around his collar with one finger, a nervous tick. "It's that…"

"Cherus, I don't have all night and neither do you. What is it?"

He pursed his lips, turning his head towards her again. Cherus gave her another small smile. "Well, I was wondering… Why you always sleep in the Pixie Dust Tree. I mean, you have a room, right? But, you're always here."

Creon's eyes widened for a moment, and she blinked, shocked. How did he know that she always stayed here? Yes, dozens of pixies had seen her here before, but they never thought to question it. The ones that had asked what she was doing loafing around there at such an hour usually got satisfied with the answer "just relaxing", too. Why did he want to know – or rather, why did he have reason to think there was a better answer than the lie she usually gave?

She narrowed her stare and spoke her mind. "How did you know I always sleep here?"

His cheeks flushed red again, and the finger was back to border his neck, scratching away patterns in his neck. "Well, it's not like I watch you, or anything! Ahaha. I just…. Well, when you're a Caring talent, you're naturally observant, and I do come by her more than often… Sometimes, really late. And you're almost always here. Sometimes you're not even awake. I never see you anywhere _but _here, actually. I just was wondering…. I mean, don't you like your room?"

Creon looked to him, her demeanor breaking. Part of her was wondering how late he must be coming by if he saw her when she was asleep, part of her was embarrassed as heck that he'd seen her like that, and another part altogether was confused as what to respond with. So she turned her head and figured, nothing much else to do but be honest. After all, he'd see through any bull she could give.

"No." The girl mumbled, crossing her arms.

Cherus' blush faded, and he leaned down, sitting next to her as she looked away. "But why not?"

"Because… because I just don't. It's uncomfortable in there. It's cold."

He cocked one brow, confused. "Cold? But you're a tinker – I mean, your room should be hot, right? Surrounded with metal?"

She bit her lip, then shot him a stare. "Well, yea, it's surrounded with metal, but it's not mine. It's not my metal. You _know _what I mean, don't make me say it." She glared, her eyebrows pinching together in frustration. Then, realizing her attitude, she pursed her lips together and relaxed her face. She threw one hand in the air and waved off the question, turning away again. "And besides, changing rooms would be such a hassle, and it's not worth the trouble when the Tree's a perfectly good sleeping spot anyway." Another glance back. "Does that answer your question?"

Cherus paused, looking straight at her. It was uncomfortable how at ease he seemed. His shoulders were perfectly taut, but slumped in a relaxed, casual fashion, somewhere along the line he'd stopped his nervous tic, leaving his collar bones a little red, but exposed. From where the light was shining off the pixie dust, a shadow was cast over his face – but his blue eyes still sparkled.

He moved back a bit, but kept looking at her and gave another warm smile. "Well, yes, I suppose. I'm sorry about your room. I won't ask anymore." He started to get up, and wiped the dirt off of his pants.

_Good. Leave. I just want to sleep. _Creon thought, crossing her arms and preparing her sleeping position once more.

"But you know…." He began once more, pushing blonde hair behind his ear.

Creon snarled. "What?"

He didn't seem to notice the hostility. Instead, he just looked down at her, and beamed with kindness. Not pity – she knew pity when she saw it. This was really kindness, for once. It had her caught like a tractor beam.

"Well, I'm glad you found a place you can sleep, but though the Pixie Tree is great, it's not all too safe at night. There's no watchmen to warn you about hawks, or bats, or owls. I don't want you to get hurt. So be careful, alright?"

She felt her skin pulse – a sudden rush of blood pushed against her when she looked at him. Creon hesitated, then buried her head into her hands, away from him.

"I'll be fine. Good _night_, Cherus."

He laughed. "Goodnight, Creon." And he was off. When she looked up, all she could see was a thin trail of golden dust, the remnants of his wing beats, and an empty space where he had been standing seconds before.

She sighed, looking down again, and closed her eyes.

_Damn Caring talents. Who needs 'em._

_Though I suppose it really isn't all to safe here after all._

…_..Just for tonight. I'll sleep inside, just for tonight. I don't feel all to safe anymore._

_Damn it._


End file.
